Wraths Recompense alt
by Gaia caecilia
Summary: Eönwë goes to fight the war of Wrath with a strange prophesy ringing in his ears, on his journey he finds many surprises and his own rewards. *1st age fic* *Complete*.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This story is one written at a request of one of my reviewers (Melody-chii) with the requirement that it be entirely pre-3rd age. Since this is set in the 1st age, i''m going to post it twice - in the silmarillion section and the Lord of the Rings because i'm not entirely sure how to classify it. Just to warm you about that.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing more than the plot, OC's, student debts and a sore throat - you are more than welcome to the last two - the other two probably aren't worth much. This is purely written for the enjoyment of my readers, please don't sue.

Wrath's Recompense.

He strolled through the streets of Tirion on this most peculiar mission his lord had given him. Mortals? In Valinor. Would wonders never cease?

Peredhil, Eönwë amended as he saw the pair who looked so lost in the deserted streets.

The dark-haired Maia bowed to them before bidding they followed him to his master. The relatively short journey was completed in silence, the two newcomers taking in every detail of this new land to which both were technically barred.

Eönwë left them once they were announced to do as he willed. Much of that was wondering after the two strangers, Eärendil and Elwing, who had come to petition the Valar themselves. The greatest of the Maia was worried by the ill-tidings he sensed with their arrival.

XXX

Ill-tidings indeed, Eönwë thought as he mustered the Vanyar to war. The compassion within his heart rejoiced in the lifting of the Doom of the Noldor, allowing the exiled race to return to Valinor, but also sunk at the tiding of Morgoth's domination of Arda. That _filth_ would never stop his poison, would he?

His feelings were equally mixed about the war, for war was a terrible thing but in this case utterly necessary. Who knew, maybe this would finally be the end of the curse that existed in the mere presence of the fallen Vala.

It was not just the Vanyar who went to war, though they made the majority of the Host of the Valar, but the few remaining Noldor who remained in the Undying lands, and the Telerin leant their ships at the behest of Elwing, who was apparently their kinswoman through her descent of Thingol, or Elwë as he had been known.

As he finished securing his last piece of armour before leaving, he had a most surprising visitor; that of Irmo, Lord of Dreams and Desires. The young appearing Valar was somewhat of a mystery; even to the Maia he stood before. Before speaking his reason for being there, he gave somewhat mysterious smile, which only served to put Eönwë on edge.

"I come to you this eve, for I have sensed the strangest thing when thinking on this war upon which you embark." Eönwë nodded gracefully, wondering what one such as Irmo could sense about the war which would be of interest to him right now. "I sense a desire so deep within you that you have yet to recognise it that will be fulfilled by one whom you shall find on campaign."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the fair face.

"There is more, but more that I cannot make sense of. The sense is that the fulfiller is somehow unexpected in some way I cannot unravel. Hopefully all will be made clear soon." And with that, the strange Valar was gone, leaving more questions than anything else.

With more important things to dwell on than the strange senses of Irmo, Eönwë put the visitation to the back of his mind to dwell on in what empty hour he might find on his campaign.

XXX

The Elves of the Arda were sorely grateful for the army of the Valar.

Weary they were from the ongoing fight, but they fought with a vigour unexpected. Eönwë was willing to admit that his own force were generally a little green, few of them having ever truly fought for their lives before now. Those of Arda, however, had seen the worst that could befall them and it leant them a strength of arm he had not foreseen.

Soon the three Houses of Men joined their side, swelling the ranks somewhat. This new race changed things for unlike the Elves, they could die without being killed. Men had suffered under Morgoth in their own ways and they were as grim as even Arda's Elves could not be.

Between major battles there were many smaller ones, ones which would not be remembered or recorded and each inch of land had to be checked thoroughly that it was clear before they could move on. It was tiresome but necessary work, for only a fool left an enemy behind them.

XXX

Eönwë leant back in his tent, enjoying a rare moment of rest as seasoned warriors cleared the surrounding area. He sighed in resignation as a messenger rushed in to him with _more_ news that simply could not wait. He swore that when this war was over, he would sleep a week for the peace it afforded him.

"My Lord! We have found a cave system, a seeming fortress of the enemy hidden well within the ground. There is an air of magic around it, and a force we cannot break bars entrance into what we expect to be the most important part of it..." Eönwë held up a hand to stop the flow of words.

"And I am necessary to break the magic. Give me but a moment; go tell those there that I am coming." The messenger shot out the tent and Eönwë took a moment to notice the direction.

So much for rest then.

XXX

Hands and brow against the door, Eönwë sent out his mind to the magic blocking it. Eventually he worked it out and with a bang, the magic collapsed inwards and the door cracked under the force. With that, the Maia stepped back to allow the clearing of the doorway.

It was quickly discovered that inside was empty as Morgoth's soul, to quote one soldier's turn of phrase. Eönwë's face twisted into a small smile at that. Empty indeed, but not like Morgoth's soul. That filth had things in his soul alright, but nothing any person would want to see.

Behind the swarms of his soldiers searching out the caves for any sign of life, Eönwë explored himself. Following the sound of excited voices, he found a large group of his men in a store room, top filled with delicacies ready to eat. In fact, some of his men were about to do that.

"_Daro!"_ They all turned to him. "Have you checked that food for safety yet?" They began to colour, answering his question. "Did it not occur to you that, if you find food of any sort within an enemy stronghold that it might not be hale to eat? No one eats anything without it being checked first. I do not wish my soldiers to die through foolery."

He turned on his heels, irritated that they would not think first. It wasn't like food was in such hard demand, rationed yes, sparse no. One of the perks of the Valar themselves having ordered the campaign was that they had no worry for food at least.

He carried on wandering the strange halls they had found when his ears picked up a strange sound, that of feminine singing he realised as he followed the sound closer to its source. His strides picked up, intent at getting closer to the compelling singing, trying to make out the words, as yet too muffled.

Shortly before he got close enough to make out the words, a worried-looking Noldor ran up to him.

"My Lord, we have found what seems to be a prison, from whence this strange singing comes. It appears as if, when they left this place, that they left at least one lady locked up in a cell. A magically locked one if my senses are true." Eönwë gestured that the Elf should lead the way and followed, frowning.

Prison seemed the right word for the place, it was heavily barred from the outside and it did not take much examination to tell that it could only be opened from the outside. The magic on the door was strong also. It begged the question as to who could be so precious as to keep locked up so strongly, but to leave behind when they fled?

As Eönwë placed his hands and head against the door, for the first time he noted that the words were of no language he'd ever heard before. That song broke off abruptly as the door cracked with the magical force it took to unlock it. Instead of letting others in first though, this time Eönwë gestured they should remain outside and entered himself.

The room was somewhat of a surprise. It was of moderate luxury, not rich exactly, but far from basic. Another indication that the prisoner was of some value, but as he looked around Eönwë noticed that in fact, it was _two_ prisoners kept here.

On the large bed was a tall woman with rich auburn hair, a shade the Maia had never seen before, holding a young boy, both of which looked drawn and terrified. Two pairs of green eyes were fixed on him as he entered and surveyed the room and he sensed immediately that he was the cause, though not the source of the fear.

As the lady pulled the child against her protectively, Eönwë wondered many questions, but realised as the lady greeted him shakily that they would all have to wait for one major problem.

The language she seemed to speak was one like he'd never come across, and that he could not understand.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this took so long to post, i'm in my final year at uni and life is seriously hectic right now. I'm actually posting this in a lecture *cough*.

Sorry if i haven't replied to any reviews, getting round to it is a bit of a problem right now. I shall try to get round to it as soon as possible.

GaiaCaecilia

Wrath's Recompense 2

Unsure of what to do, Eönwë nodded at the woman before holding up one finger and going to the doorway, in which many curious Elves stood.

"Go now, I will deal with this. Someone go and tell the Camp Master to prepare accommodation near mine for a woman and child." The soldiers seemed startled for a moment before following his orders. Once they were gone, Eönwë turned back into the room where the woman and child still sat on the bed, eyes fixed on him.

He bowed and greeted them formally. The look on the woman's face implied that she had also realised the problem and after a moment's hesitation, put the boy down on the bed and moved closer to Eönwë. She touched her chest and said a single word, then point to the boy and said another, and then looked back at Eönwë. She tilted her head as he tried to comprehend what she was trying to say. She repeated the actions and words.

"Riona, Daffyd." Suddenly it dawned on him – she was telling him their names. He touched his chest and stated his own name before pointing to each of them in turn and stating their names. Riona's face lit up a little and she moved to the table across the room. When she came back she was holding what he realised was a wax tablet and a metal device to write in the wax.

After a moment's thought she began carving a picture in the wax before handing the tablet to him. After a few moments of examining the crude line drawings, he worked out what she was trying to say – or so he thought. The boy, Daffyd, was her nephew through a brother.

Not being able to work out how to draw it, he tried a pantomime to ask her how they got there. Riona proved quick in getting what he was asking, but her frown betrayed the difficulty she had with the answer. As she thought about it, she knelt by the fire, melting the wax and smoothing it back into place. Eventually, she turned back to him, lip bitten and with a combination of face and an expressive shrug, she indicated she did not know. He wasn't sure if that was she didn't know how she'd got to be prisoner or how to answer him.

He gave up on information for the moment and through another painful pantomime of both actions and drawing, he asked her to come back with him to the main camp. She nodded and then held up her hand in the same action he had earlier to indicate that he needed a short time to do something else.

To his surprise she then pulled a heavy trunk out from under the bed and removed cloaks from it. He could see that it also contain a change of clothes for each of them. As she looked at the clothing, she looked unsurely back at Eönwë. He tried to indicate that she should take the clothing – they would probably need it, he thought. She pulled a blanket from the bed and managed to make a large pouch to hold the extra clothing, as well as her wax tablet and writing implement. She gathered one or two other items that she had obviously hidden around the room, probably from her captors. Some of the hiding places were ingenious.

Once she had gathered everything she wanted from the room, she gathered her nephew on her hip and buried him under her cloak protectively. She nodded at Eönwë, who took the hint and led her out. She stayed close to him, seeming as wary of his soldiers still swarming the underground fortress as they were of her. At one point, he stopped to tell the men to clear out her room of everything useful that could be found.

Outside and in the camp, it was worse and Eönwë turned slightly as he heard a slight whimper. It was the first noise Daffyd had made and it was not a good one. He then noticed both were squinting and realised it had probably been a long time since either of them had even seen natural light. The room they had been kept in had only been fairly dimly lit by candles and a same fire in a small hearth.

A small part of him also noticed that in the light, Riona's hair was a more brilliant shade of red than he had previously seen in that dark room and she did stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd of blond and brown to black-haired males. Daffyd's hair was a more normal shade of chestnut-brown. Sensing their discomfort, he pulled them closer as he led them through to his own tent at the centre of the encampment.

They seemed to relax more when in the safety of his large tent, one with fabric partitions for a sleeping chamber and one to work in. He sat them down and offered them some fruit from the bowl that had been left in the tent to refresh those working there when necessary. Both accepted the food without hesitation and it was gone remarkably quickly. It suddenly occurred to the Maia that they could well have not eaten in days if they had been abandoned in that room for as long as he expected. The food he ordered to be brought to them was devoured as quickly, confirming his suspicions of their hunger. It was not long after that that the boy fell asleep on his aunt's shoulder.

XXX

The two continued to eat with Eönwë, partly because few in the camp trusted them. It was nothing either of the pair did, but more what they did not do. Riona could only communicate through the painful medium of mime and drawing and when Daffyd did speak it was purely to his aunt.

People wondered who the strange pair were to be kept prisoner as such – and it had got round the camp that they had been kept comfortably as well. The rumours concerning them running round the camp were wild and frequently totally improbable. The general thrust of the theories was that they were some type of weapon. Some said that the enemy had left their hold in such haste as to not be able to bring a woman and child; some said that they had deliberately been left there locked up so they would take her in where she could be the most effective within their grasp.

Riona did nothing either way to these rumours. She simply stayed within her tent or Eönwë's tent – though she seemed to ensure that her waking hours were supervised, usually by Eönwë himself. In the few spare moment available to them, he attempted to teach them a little of his language. Daffyd seemed to pick up what words he could think of how to explain to them quickly – probably because of his young age, the age at which he was still learning to speak any language.

Eönwë looked up from the table where he and some of his generals were planning out their next moves as he heard gentle humming from the corner of the large tent. He smiled over at Riona, who had Daffyd on her lap as she combed his hair with her fingers and hummed a strange tune.

It had caused some argument, letting them in the tent while they planned, but after a few short discussions on their language skills or lack thereof the other generals had given up – especially when it had been pointed out that she was always guarded – if unofficially – and would hardly be able to pass on information to anyone.

Once Daffyd had settled again, she picked up her sewing and carried on mending the shirt. It vaguely amused Eönwë to see her mending his shirts, but she had asked for something to do and so he had shown her his damaged clothing and provided her with the wherewithal to mend them. Between tending Daffyd, she happily did so.

His generals quietened down as they considered the information they had and slowly began to notice the music themselves and turned to the absently humming lady sitting in the corner. Riona's eyes flickered up and a pink blush stained her cheeks as she noticed the scrutiny. With a smile, the Maia indicated to her to sing up. They could all do with a bit of music in this dark time. The blush deepened significantly as she complied with him.

The song she sung was lovely but it was not hard to hear the longing touch in her voice. Eönwë's eyes flickered back to the hardened generals beside him. All were silent, watching her with strange looks in their eyes, many seemed to long after something. As her tone took on the catch of wistfulness that Eönwë associated with those people talking about homes they had been away from too long, he saw answering bursts of home-sickness in every other eye in the room.

Suddenly, he was refraining from grinning. Without anyone realising it, she found a language more elemental than word to communicate in and found an odd power. The power of music was not that of magic any more than the language of music was one of words, but it was one she wielded excellently – and apparently without a clue. Did she realise she had a lovely voice or the capability to fill it with emotions that passed the ears and went straight to the heart?

When she stopped singing and they went back to their work, he noted that everyone seemed calmer and everything seemed to go more productively – he would have to ask Riona to sing to them again if this was the effect.

XXX

The dark-haired Maia knocked on the side of the tent as much as one could on a tent and heard a comment in Riona's language that, from the tone, sounded like come in. After a moment's hesitation he entered the tent to find Riona sat on an improvised stall, while Daffyd slept on the joint bedroll they shared.

Eönwë knelt by Riona, who raised an expressive eyebrow at him, asking in a way that needed no translation, to what she owed this visit late into the evening. With a friendly smile, he handed her the bag he held.

With a quizzical frown, she took it from him and opened the bag, only to let out a noise of delight. Apparently she appreciated the present. Out of the bag she drew out a lute – or whatever it was. Eönwë has asked around about if there were any instruments around, after hearing her sing he had been curious about what her reaction to an instrument and had found this one.

As she gave him a look that asked where he had got it from, she absently tuned the instrument showing she had some familiarity with at least that type of instrument, even if not that specific one. Eönwë was very glad for the language barrier. He suspected that she would not appreciate knowing that the instrument had belonged to a soldier who was now dead. The soldier who'd handed it over had said the old bard had no family left, but it hadn't seemed right just to leave his things. The soldier had been of the opinion that the previous owner would much prefer that someone had and played the instrument than it be left in the rubbish or his grave – the man had apparently loved the thing. The look on Riona's face implied she would love it as much.

She played a simple tune on it, as if to see whether she'd tuned it well and then put it to one side for a moment. To Eönwë's complete surprise, he suddenly had arms full of joyous woman. Unsure what to do, but not wanting to make her unhappy, he wrapped his arms round her and drew her closer. It had apparently been the right thing to do, for she snuggled closer into his chest with a soft, delighted sound. She rested there a few moments before kissing his cheek and going back to her stall and instrument. She began to play the thing as if she had not just shown him more affection than anyone Eönwë could ever remember showing him.

As he watched her happy, affectionate expression as she played, he suddenly empathised with his men complaining about never understanding women.


	3. Chapter 3

As promised i am now in my boring lecture i shall post the next chapter. Hopefully this is more interesting than comparitive politics. (Not hard i'll admit - though there is the godsend in the form of the lecturer's rather annoying voice going)

Wrath's Recompense 3

Eönwë watched Riona play for them, singing gently in her own language, one that lilted slightly as she spoke. The lilt was oddly comforting and when combined with her songs, worked perfectly.

After an initial shock, his generals had gotten used to her with the instrument and singing and she was accepted amongst their little circle, especially as she played for them day and night. Eönwë couldn't help smiling at the content looks on their faces as they watched the woman play gently for them. Shifting Daffyd on his lap (for the boy had taken to staying with the Maia while his aunt played, an oddly welcome burden for the ancient being who held him), he reflected on the interesting conversation of the day.

*_Flashback*_

_The generals were looking over a map, not really in much of a rush for once when one of them seemed to have an idea and gestured Riona over. She was once again mending, this time another of the generals' shirts – she had taken over mending all of the top generals' clothing simply to fill her time as she mended faster than they could damage clothing. She seemed surprised to be called over._

_When she was by the map, he waved a hand over and after a second, Eönwë realised that the Elf was asking where she came from. She frowned as she examined the map and after a minute or two of close inspection, shook her head._

_He speculated for a second that maybe she'd never seen a map before and might not know where she came from was on a map, but she then picked up her wax tablet and stylus and began to draw. She then showed them the image – a rather cruder map of what he suddenly realised were two islands and wavy lines that seemed to indicate sea between them._

_Riona pointed to one blob and said one word before pointing to herself. She then pointed back to the island and stated:_

"_Ireland." She then pointed to the other island, which he suddenly noted was divided by two other dotted lines and after pointing at each section, she would say another word._

"_Wales, England, Scotland." She then made a circling action over the bigger island, a peculiarly long thin shape that took a bend to the left at the bottom, almost at a right angle, the entire thing tilted anti-clockwise. After the action she said two more words. "Great Britain."_

_They all looked at her in pure surprise. As far as they could make out, she was saying she came from a place _none_ of them had ever heard of. All the generals looked at Eönwë to see whether he was familiar with this place she was pointing out. He shook his head and saw the disappointment in Riona's face. She obviously realised the implications of them clearly having no idea on the place she came from – she would probably never go home._

_With a look of almost desperation she pointed to one part of 'Ireland' and said another word._

"_Waterford." Then she pointed to 'Wales' and said another word "Caerleon" she then said Daffyd and looked at them again. Was Riona saying Daffyd came from another country, that he wasn't the same nationality as her?_

_She then flipped the tablet over to reveal another wax tablet Eönwë had never noticed before and drew another of her family trees like the one she'd used to explain Daffyd was her nephew and pointed to the one that was her brother and said what he guessed was her brother's name, 'Jamie' apparently. She then flipped back to the map. She used the stylus to indicate that he'd gone over the sea and married in 'Wales', which explained how he'd be another nationality, and his different accent._

_It had taken some time to notice that Daffyd spoke with a different accent since the boy rarely spoke, but as he'd got used to Eönwë, he had begun to speak more and so the Maia had noticed his accent. He left his musing, as he noticed that all of the other males in the room staring at her._

_She sighed dejectedly and went back to her stool in the corner of the tent, picking up a candle on the way. Absently she began to sing under her breath, a sad, depressing tune, as she melted away the pictures on the wax._

_*End flashback*_

Riona had been slightly depressed since then. A part of him wanted to comfort her, another try and ask more questions, but he knew that the latter would have to wait until she grasped their language better, for any question he wanted to ask would be too complicated – with a far too complicated answer to mime or draw.

XXX

For a moment, Eönwë observed the armour laid out before him, reflecting on the fight he was going into. They had moved forward again, but hadn't gone as far as they had wanted because the scouts had reported another force setting up for a battle and so they had stopped and prepared to fight them. With a sigh, he blinked and was about to reach for a piece when he saw Riona holding it up for him. She looked pale and very grave – clearly she understood what was going on.

In silence, she helped him put on the elaborate plate-armour and then his weaponry. Once they were finished, they both stood in silence, not sure what to do. Riona was staring at the ground, biting her lip before she managed to surprise him once again. To his absolute surprise, she suddenly bounced up and hugged him, and then kissed his cheek.

When she pulled back, Eönwë was still staring at her in surprise. Riona let out a nervous giggle, the type that sounded as if the other option was crying. Without knowing exactly why, he smiled back at her, hoping it reassured her.

The returned smile was rather weak and she went back to biting her lip nervously, a strangely endearing habit. She then placed both hands over her heart and then extended them to him and then placed both palms on his chest over his own. Some sort of well-wish, he guessed.

Riona carried on surprising him with another set of actions. She pointed at his chest, and then her hand flopped before she shook her head vigorously. Was she telling him not to die? He mimed dying dramatically then shook his head at her and she nodded. Apparently so.

Eönwë raised his eyebrow at her, surprised that she apparently worried about him. It was a strange sensation to be worried about, to have someone to leave behind and thus come back to. He grinned at her, pleased that she seemed to care, which resulted in her placing a hand on each shoulder and kissing both cheeks before she let him go.

XXX

Eönwë sat on his roan stallion and drew his sword with a certain reflectiveness. It was the first time that he had drawn sword not just to defend a generic idea – the people of Arda or the orders of the Valar – this time he had a specific person, who he cared about individually, to fight for. It made him both more cautious and braver.

It didn't even occur to him to think about that statement. The fact that he cared after the strange pair he had found was such a given that it didn't even occur to him that fighting for an woman he'd only known for a few moons spoke loudly of her effect on him.

Thankfully, no one noticed the glint in his eye as he led the charge. As he hacked at the spawn of Morgoth, he mentally promised he would get back alive to Riona. He didn't know exactly why, but he _had _to get back to her – she had asked it of him.

In his focus fighting for Riona, he didn't notice one unlucky slash across his arm between the plates.


	4. Chapter 4

Majorly sorry for 2 things, not replying to review and private message and also for taking so long to post this. I'm afraid that i've hit the 'oh $&&£$ (insert cussing here), i've got essays' season. Had one due last week, another on the 11th november and two others i have yet to remember the date for as i only have a week for this philosophy essay and i've hardly got anywhere with the reading let alone the essay. I am afraid that posting will be sporadic due to work load and i can't guarantee i will reply to reviews. (there's one particular reviewer i keep meaning to respond to but since the responce actually requires quite a lot of typing and thinking it keeps getting shoved behind my heavy final year degree work - i'm particularly sorry for that one. O.O)

Anyway, since i have got round to updating, here we go...

Wrath's Recompense 4

Eönwë strolled into his tent, still high on battle-lust, with the resolve to get out of his armour before the huge crash that followed battle-lust hit. He and, by the sound of it, the generals behind him were surprised to find Riona, frowning and pacing the length of the tent restlessly.

The moment she registered his presence, he found himself with arms full of worried woman. After a second or two hugging him, she pulled back and sat him on one of the stools in the tent and began removing his armour systematically and piling it neatly in a corner. Once she'd also removed the padding, she looked pointedly at his left shoulder and glared at him and bit her lip before going to the iron brazier in the corner of the tent to retrieve something.

Much to his, and the generals', surprise she removed a terracotta bowl from _within _theflames and placed it carefully on the table. The bowl was most of the way full of water and floating in the water was one of her finer needles, ready threaded as well as a roll of thread. A crude twig contraption held a clean rag above the water, which was slightly damp from the steam rising off the bowl.

Riona carefully lifted the rag off and wiped her hands then washed them with more water she'd obviously prepared earlier and began to wash his arm off. Once the cut was clean she dropped the rag back in the hot water and picked up a second off the little rack and dropped a clear liquid from another little terracotta bottle onto it and began washing out the wound. Eönwë hissed in surprise as this liquid touched the cut – that _stung_!

Riona just gave him a stern look and held his arm still as she carried on tending it. Once she was apparently satisfied with the cleanliness of the wound, she picked up the needle and thread and deftly began sewing it up as if it was his tunic, not his skin!

By now the battle-lust had worn off and he could _definitely_ feel the needle going in and out, pulling the skin together. After what seemed far too long, she finished tending his wound. Much to Eönwë's amusement, she then turned to the generals and gave them the same treatment – they had been sniggering quietly at Eönwë and when they got treated to the same care, they suddenly seemed to find her mothering a lot less funny.

Throughout the tending – at least once Eönwë's own care was finished – he was collecting all the information about the battle – how many they had lost, injuries, and such like. All the while, he observed the auburn-haired woman, noticing all the little things she did – and the differences in her tending methods from what the healers around here used. The most noticeable thing was that she boiled _everything_. Clearly there was a purpose to the boiling, but for the life of him, Eönwë couldn't work out what. Granted, everything seemed a lot cleaner after a boil, but he couldn't see why you should boil the needle and thread.

Even if she had spoken their language, he and the other generals knew better than to ask. All of them had enough experience of women generally to know better than to dare.

XXX

The next day, she insisted on checking all injuries and cleansing them again. Cleanliness seemed very important to her. When she came to one of the humans, the head of one of the three Edain Houses, she frowned at the wound, which had gone red and was swelling. Eönwë watched her curiously – he had no idea what had happened to the injury to make it go red like that, he'd never seen that happen before, but it obviously worried Riona. After a short time glaring at the injury, she cleaned it out rather thoroughly and then got a cloth she had made sure was especially clean and used a third bottle of stuff on it, which evidently stung as badly as the cleaning liquid she'd used the previous night.

As she finished cleansing the injury or whatever she was doing, a human Healer entered the tent and looked at it. Under Riona's glaring gaze, the man washed his hands before actually touching the wound and nodded then looked at the others in the tent.

"The girl knows what she's doing, I'll give her that. She's cleaned out the wounds with distilled alcohol, which lessens the chance of an injury going rancid and she's being very carefully making sure this one is as clean as possible, since it's obviously going the way of rancid. I don't know what that third liquid is she's using, but I'll bet its stuff from wherever she's from that's designed to combat whatever it is that makes a wound go nasty." Both Eönwë and the Elves had raised eyebrows, while the other men were nodding knowingly. Obviously a wound 'going rancid' was a specific problem for humans that apparently needed treating. Riona clearly knew this and how to treat it.

"Is this 'going rancid' dangerous then?" Asked one of the Elves, Eönwë wasn't going to admit he was glad the Elf had, since he didn't want to admit he had no clue about it either. The Healer gave him a long look.

"If you don't catch it quickly enough within a day or so, it can be fatal – often through a slow, painful death. Rancid injuries kill more of our men than the battles themselves do and it's a horrible way to die." The Healer rose, ready to go, then turned back. "I'll send some willow-bark essence, which he's got to drink at every meal. It'll make the swelling go down and that seems to help with the healing. It wouldn't do for him of all people to get the sickness and die."

The Elves and Maia looked at each other, surprised. None of them knew that. Eönwë was suddenly very glad he wasn't human – and the Elves looked like they were thinking similar things, they had all forgotten how fragile the race of Men could be.

XXX

That afternoon, the Healer called back with the tea mix, and to ask if he could borrow Riona, she might not speak the language, but she obviously knew her way round Healing more than enough to be of help in the human part of the camp, where any pair of healing hands was more than welcome.

She hadn't needed any encouragement. She swiftly packed up the things she'd prepared to heal Eönwë and his general staff and followed the Healer out, leaving Daffyd playing in the corner of the tent.

Working without her in the tent suddenly felt strangely empty – he had become used to her quiet singing and general presence and now he missed it. The other generals obviously felt it as well. The obvious pleasure on their faces when she returned for meals (and to ensure that their wounds were clean, as well as the willow-bark tea taken – she was an effective bully when she wanted to be) spoke volumes.

The new rumours flying about on the subject of Riona amused Eönwë, though also reassured him. The latest ones were along the lines of her being a great Healer in her own land; brought there to tend the enemy and the little boy had been brought along to ensure her compliance. He suspected that the change in nature of the theories on her presence had changed in relation to the fact her Healing methods had apparently been very effective in dealing with rancid wounds and the men were very grateful for it.

XXX

A few days later, Eönwë gave in to something he'd been wanting to do since he'd found Riona and Daffyd. He justified it with the theory that in concern for his army, he needed to know more. A part of him was honest enough to admit that there was a certain amount of sophistry in that justification.

After all the generals had gone to their own beds, he lay down on his own bed roll, closed his eyes and sent his thoughts out to Estë, thinking she would probably know the most. She answered almost immediately, like she'd known that he would contact her. With the Valar, there was a fair chance she had. They were like that.

Once he'd explained everything about Riona to the lady, Estë was silent as if thinking for a while before responding.

"The Healer of Men is right, she knows what she is doing. More than the race of Men of Arda should, for she is showing knowledge beyond what has been taught to them, far beyond in fact. They have barely grasped the importance of cleanliness and she knows about infections. That third liquid she is using is extracted from a fungus and specifically combats sickness." For the first time, Eönwë noticed that the lady's presence had the sense of being somewhere else as well as with him. Judging by what she was saying, the somewhere else was Riona's mind. He suddenly heard a sharp gasp.

"How does she know that?" The shocked tone of Estë's voice virtually confirmed that she was looking through Riona's mind. "Neither Man nor Elf should be even near discovering that for millennia yet!" Eönwë almost got the sense of the Lady pacing across a room.

"Lady?" He asked at her, very worried by her reaction.

"Did you ever find out where she came from?" she asked urgently.

"A place called Ireland, it was an island judging by the map she drew. The boy with her was from another country on the next door island called Wales." The statement was met with resounding silence. When Eönwë was almost ready to prompt the Lady to speak again, she finally spoke.

"That explains volumes, Eönwë." She paused, sensing his worry. "No, she is no danger, in fact she is an asset to have. Where she comes from simply explains how she knows not only of how to treat sickness, but its causes down to a level of detail beyond what any but the Valar and Eru should know. Keep her safe – I expect you to bring her back to Valinor once you've finished with this War, I want a _long_ talk with that girl." The assurance that there was nothing to worry about with Riona relieved Eönwë, though a part of him still wanted to ask 'are you sure?'

A tinkling laugh filled his mind.

"I am more than sure, actually she feels rather strongly about you. Maybe you should take some time to enjoy that affection?" Eönwë was about to ask what that comment meant, but before he could, Estë cut off the telepathic link. She left behind a sense of more of that laughter.

He reflected on what she'd said, Riona felt strongly about him? Strongly affectionate? The Maia didn't notice the pleased grin that spread across his face at the notion.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry i haven't replied to reviews again but life is still hectic. Incidently, does anyone know anything about theories of Metaphor (particularly Davidson and Searle)? I got an essay due friday and i'm still a bit clueless on the subject but unfortunately that was the easiest essay title on the list (i understood it at all that is).

Anyway, shall go back to paying attention to my Philosophy of Language lecture... Cough...

Wrath's Recompense 5

Eönwë passed on Estë's reassurance that there was nothing to worry about Riona – though he forgot to mention large chunks of the conversation, or paraphrased them, simply telling them that the Vala had said that Riona was extremely competent and added that in areas of Healing she should be trusted implicitly. Estë hadn't stated that exactly, but her comments about Riona's level of knowledge implied that she knew better than any other about the art of Healing.

The blessing of a Vala made Riona instantly trusted, one of the main reasons Eönwë had passed on what Estë had said. All the same, he still had to think about the other things that Estë had also said.

A few evenings later, he noticed Riona rubbing her arms as if she was cold. With a slight smile, he moved over to her and wrapped an arm round her like he'd seen some of the Men do when their ladies had been cold. Much to his pleasure, she curled into the embrace and wrapped an arm round his waist.

It didn't take the exhausted woman long to fall asleep against his chest and he gently pulled his cloak round her to ensure her continuing warmth. When he looked up again he noticed his generals grinning at him, like he'd just done something really amusing. He raised an eyebrow at them questioningly. Finarfin, the ultimate leader of the elven forces, was the one who answered.

"There are some things, my Lord, which need no words to be understood and her feelings for you are one of them. We are just pleased to see that those feelings are seemingly returned, we would not like to see her hurt. She has a way of worming herself into your heart." Eönwë smiled slightly at the last comment; that was true enough. Then the first statement came back to him. He frowned, that comment sounded familiar. What did they mean about returned feelings? His confusion must have shown on his face, for Finarfin smiled at him.

"And that, my Lord, is what we find so amusing." Eönwë raised an eyebrow at the Elf-king. "You clearly have no clue, my Lord; she might have worked out what she is feeling, but you really have no idea what is happening, possibly haven't even realised that something _is_ happening." He laughed at the blank look on Eönwë's face. "You'll understand in time, my Lord, it is not something which can be explained, but has to be experienced. We have all done so; you are only beginning to do so. I wish you both joy, however."

The King pointed at the woman now sound asleep in his arms.

"Maybe you should put her and Daffyd to bed. They obviously need the rest." Eönwë glared at the King, recognising a polite dismissal when he heard one. Obviously neither he, nor any of his other generals were inclined to say more just now.

XXX

The next morning, he received a surprisingly shy smile from Riona. He returned her smile like usual and hid his frown at the way she blushed slightly and looked down at the floor. The desire to frown increased at the amused glances he got from his generals, as well as Finarfin shaking his head.

It went on like that, with Riona seeming to have become both very shy and very inclined to blush. The generals seemed to find it vastly amusing while Eönwë was absolutely baffled. Daffyd went on completely oblivious to it all.

XXX

Eönwë's hand shot to the knife he kept beside him as he felt a small hand tugging at his clothing. As consciousness came back to him, he realised that such a small hand could only belong to one person and he blinked a few times and relaxed as his vision proved him right that it was indeed Daffyd who was pulling at his clothing.

Blinking in surprise, he sat up. Daffyd continued pulling his clothing and tried to pull him in the direction of the exit. Quickly, he pulled on his boots and picked up his sword and then followed the little boy.

As he left the tent, he began to get a palpable sense of distress from the tent Daffyd and Riona shared and rushed to enter. On her bed roll, Riona lay, clearly asleep, curled up in a ball and whimpering. She was obviously having a nightmare and Daffyd had got the only person he knew to help her. Eönwë quickly hugged the little boy before going over to Riona to try to help her.

Not being an expert in dealing with distressed women, he pulled her against him in a hug. She continued to shake against him for a while before slowly relaxing and as he looked down at her to make sure she was okay, he was met with wide, scared green eyes reminiscent of the day he'd first found her. Her arms made it round him as she clung on to him for dear life – as if he was the only thing protecting her from untold fears.

Cautiously, he tightened his grip on her and began rubbing her back as soothingly as he could manage. Eventually, he felt her lift her head from where it had been buried in the crook of his neck and felt her soft skin caress his neck then face as she lifted her head.

Then he was looking into her eyes, closer than they'd ever been and before he knew it, she had tilted her head slightly and her lips were pressed against his. He stiffened with shock at the kiss, one that definitely wasn't simply affectionate. He pulled back and looked back into her eyes before placing her back on her bed roll and fleeing the tent.

XXX

The next morning he found he had to summon up some courage to leave his tent to go to the campfire – a large part of him didn't want to face Riona yet. He had no idea how to deal with her kissing him; he still didn't know what in Arda had happened.

Once at the campfire he found only Daffyd and not Riona. The little boy looked up at him almost accusingly before going back to playing with the little carvings a couple of the generals had made for him. Absently, Eönwë remembered how obviously touched Riona had been when they'd given the little wood animals to Daffyd, and how delighted both had been.

He shook his head and asked if they knew where Riona was, curious as to her lack of presence, even if he wasn't all that upset about it right now.

One of them had seen her up very early and she'd already gone off to the healing tent. He wasn't sure if she'd already eaten or had went without breakfast. Eönwë wondered whether she'd got up so early because she'd continued to have nightmares. He shrugged. Speculating wouldn't get him anywhere –he'd just have to leave it. Maybe by the time he saw her again the little interlude last night would be forgotten.

With that thought, he got up and went to work, determined to forget the pleasant (he had _not_ thought that) feeling of her lips on his. One kiss didn't mean anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Am hugely sorry this took so long. *appologises proufesly*. On the other hand, many thanks to Melody-chii for sending me helpful links for my essay. My vague attempt at an excuse would be the fact i managed to chip the bone in my right fore-finger (i'm right handed) and that injury is rather a bugger. Whoops

Oh, quick note for anyone wondering about the accuracy to the Silmarillion (since i seemed destined not to get round to actually answering the reviews in question) this story was written in about 3 days over the space of a weekend when i had no source available to me, just what i could remember so it may wander a bit from exactly what Tolkein wrote unfortunately.

**Wrath's Recompense 6**

Riona wasn't at lunch, neither was she at dinner. By the evening, Eönwë was beginning to get a little worried. Eventually, when the sun was long set, she appeared from the direction of the Healers, looking exhausted. Without a word, she scooped a drowsing Daffyd up in her arms. One of the generals asked if she was going to eat, pointing at the food pot to tell her what he was asking.

With a short shake of her head and an indication in the direction of the Healers, she turned and went into her tent. Nothing was seen of her for the rest of the night.

The next day went similarly, Riona being gone by the time everyone else rose and not being back till late, when she was obviously ready to sleep. On the third day of this behaviour, Finarfin followed her to the tent, but exited almost immediately, reporting that she'd already fallen asleep.

The next day, Finarfin said he had something to do once he finished breakfast only to return over an hour later looking disturbed.

On the fifth day, Eönwë woke to Finarfin in the main area of his tent looking singularly pissed off. The Maia raised his eyebrows, wondering what had happened to anger the Noldor King as such that he apparently had to deal with it.

"What did you do to her?" Finarfin snapped. The delicately raised eyebrow shot into his hair line. "What did you do to Riona to hurt her so badly?"

"Pardon? I don't believe I understand what you're talking about, My Lord Finarfin." The tone was slightly icy; what made Finarfin blame him for Riona's peculiar behaviour?

"The Healers say she's been appearing at first light, working till lunch time, eating _tiny_ amounts and then carrying on until they throw her out because of exhaustion. Everyone can see she's vastly unhappy, she's making herself sick with her unhappiness and you are the only person who could have made her so. As if that wasn't enough, it's clear Daffyd saw whatever you did from the way he's suddenly taken to glaring at you and avoiding you, even though until recently he was very fond of you and _that_ change _coincidently_ coincided with Riona's sudden bout of sadness. So what in Angband did you do to her?"

Eönwë crossed his arms and glared at the Noldor. Finarfin glared back. As they stood eyeballing each other, Eönwë's mind went back to that night. Obviously she hadn't just forgotten about it, like what was sensible. The guilt must have shown on his face somewhere because Finarfin raised an eyebrow at him. Realising that for once he was beaten, Eönwë sat down with a sigh and gestured for Finarfin to join him.

Not a flicker showed on the King's face as he explained what had happened. Eventually, he stopped and looked up at the King, an uncharacteristic slump in his shoulders. After another staring-match, Finarfin's jaw twitched as he sighed.

"You're an absolute idiot, you do know that?" Eönwë jaw dropped in surprise – no one had _ever said that _to him before. "You are an absolute, complete and utter, total idiot! You are about the only person who can't tell that she's in love with you. When she's vulnerable and needs you most, you go and push her away all but telling her you reject her! You complete idiot! If she were an Elf she'd be fading right now!"

Eönwë paled. He knew (from many hints off several people) that she was fond of him, but in love? She _loved_ him?

Finarfin got up sharply.

"I don't know about you right now, but I'm quite fond of the girl and you better try and repair the damage you've done. If she dies from grief because of you, I don't care who you are, when this War is over I'll cut you to ribbons. Am I clear?" With a sharp glare at the Maia's pale face, Finarfin turned and stormed out of the tent.

XXX

Finarfin went to find the Head Healer, noticing in passing that Riona was working on the other side of the tent, pale-faced, wan and clearly losing weight. When he found the Healer, and mentioned Riona, the Elf's face was a mask of worry.

"I don't know what has happened, my Lord, but if she were an Elf, I'd say she is fading." He stopped at the unelven-like snort from his King.

"Close enough." Finarfin waved for the ellon to go on.

"We try and get her to eat, or go to her tent earlier, but we can only get her to go when she's too exhausted to resist. I and the rest of the Healers are getting very worried over her." Finarfin nodded.

"I thought that might be the case. I'm going to set a soldier to come retrieve her before lunch and around dinner time and bring her to me, where _I_ will force her to eat and rest. I can't do much about what is hurting her, but I can at least make sure she looks after herself until she either gets over it or it is sorted out." The Healer looked a little relieved that someone in authority was going to look after the girl.

XXX

With a soldier to ensure that she came and ate with them, Riona was actually back at a sensible time, though she looked absolutely terrible. Despite all efforts on Finarfin's part, she mostly prodded the food round the plate and fed it to Daffyd, who was more than willing to eat whatever she gave him, just happy to have his aunt back to look after him.

Throughout the meal, Eönwë didn't say a word, though his eyes rarely left the one female present. Her eye never met his, though. The looks on the other generals' faces implied that they had worked out who had caused her pain.

As soon as the food was gone from her plate, she fled into her tent. Everyone turned to look at Eönwë, who shot up from his seat and stormed off.

XXX

Eönwë threw himself into battle exercise at the training field, not noticing how his ferocity scared more than one of the soldiers. It was rare for him to get angry, but he was now. He was angry at himself for hurting Riona; angry that Finarfin was the one comforting her; angry that he was scared to go to her himself and try and take the pain away; angry for not having noticed her feelings because in retrospect, it was perfectly obvious; angry for the jealousy he felt when instead of taking her normal spot, she had chosen to sit by Finarfin.

Why should he be jealous of a married Elf? Why should he be angry that someone else was receiving Riona's affection instead of him? He didn't like this rush of emotion he felt and all of them because of one woman he couldn't even talk to...

He remembered hearing someone or other saying actions spoke louder than words; well actions were the only option here anyway. He finished beating up his current opponents (he'd had a several on one match, none of the men willing to meet him on their own when he was in such a bad mood) and stormed off, thinking what action he could take to make her a little happier.

In his wanderings, he found himself in an area outside camp boundaries. He looked around, vaguely wondering how he'd got there – he must have been walking for a long time. Suddenly inspiration struck – there were flowers growing here. Didn't men sometimes give women presents to make them happy? Carefully, and whispering a prayer to Yavanna as well as thanking the plants, he picked some of the prettiest flowers and put them together into a bunch.

When he got back to his area of the camp, Riona had not yet returned for the next meal so he carefully slipped into her tent and placed the flowers on her bedroll before slipping out again and going back to what he was supposed to be doing.

XXX

That evening, when Riona entered the tent, he caught a near inaudible sound of pleasure. Only his powerful hearing allowed him to hear the noise, but he smile slightly that she seemed pleased with the gift.

For the first time since her nightmare, she joined them for breakfast the next morning, though she sat next to Finarfin again. Before she went off to the Healers, she hugged Daffyd and bestowed on him the tiniest of smiles. She must have known who they were from. As she went, he noticed one of the flowers tied into her hair and Eönwë smiled in pleasure.


	7. Chapter 7

Early update to make up for taking so long with the previous update.

Wrath's Recompense 7.

The flowers had at least cheered Riona up enough that she once again kept normal hours and ate more, but it didn't stop her avoiding him and she carried on sitting next to Finarfin rather than him at meal times.

She also picked up her little concerts in the evening, much to all present's pleasure. She had a sweet voice that calmed all their troubles and helped them to sleep.

All the while, they moved closer and closer to the final battle against Morgoth and Eönwë was kept as busy with plans as Riona was in the Healing section of the camp. There was a constant stream of injured from the Vanguard of the army, clearing the path ahead of them for the rest of the army, constantly being refreshed with soldiers from the main core.

With every mile, they killed many more than were killed on their side and what they killed varied vastly in nature. There were Orcs and Goblins, Wolves and many, many more creatures that Morgoth called to his aid. There were even men, but those men were hewn under the army of the Valar – badly armed and fed as they were, for Morgoth did not look after his army as the Valar did. The presence of Men on both sides made for the first time in history that Eönwë was glad that the race of Men was not under the same prohibition against Kinslaying as the Eldar. Them not being able to kill each other would have caused a major logistical problem in his battle plans. Thankfully, all the Elves were on his side.

Even with their apparent superiority in battle, they suffered heavy losses; they would be going into the final battle with less than half of what they started with, even with the reinforcements from the peoples they had freed coming in periodically.

Morgoth, on the other hand, had far less than half his original force and he had no extras joining him. Unfortunately to their hundreds of thousands, the fallen Valar had started with millions. Now the numbers were almost even.

XXX

Eönwë rose, knowing that he could not put off the inevitable any longer, any more than he could call on Irmö to provide him more sleep. He pulled on his battle clothes listlessly, trying to summon up the energy he knew he would need later on in the day. With a resigned sigh, he entered the main area of his tent to find his motivation kneeling by his armour.

As he entered, Riona looked up at him. It was hard to tell if her sadness was because he was going into battle or because of something else. He could think of several 'something else's', and in every scenario it was his fault she was sad. He smiled at her as reassuringly as he could. She just held up the first piece of padding for him and helped him put it on.

Once they had finished arming him, they stood there before Riona looked down for a few moments and drew something out of the pouch at her waist. She held it up and he realised it was a lock of her hair tied together with the string Healers used for herbs. Very carefully, she tied it to the shoulder joint of his armour, where it wouldn't harm his movement nor be likely to come off. He realised what she was doing, he'd seen many of the women give similar trinkets, ribbons or locks of hair or scarves to their lovers. They were called Favours, a sort of personal well wish for an individual. He was touched that even after all that had happened, she would still give him one.

Much to his surprise she opened her wax tablet – it had a wooden cover – and revealed a pressed bouquet of flowers. His eyes widened as he realised what she was showing him. She had kept the flowers he had given her and pressed them to preserve them. They had really meant that much to her. He looked at her as warmly as could be managed. It was true; actions definitely spoke louder than words.

XXX

As he sat on his horse, he touched the hand of his shield arm to the little trinket Riona had tied there and though he could barely feel it through the armour, it comforted him to know it was there. Then, slowly, he drew his great two-handed sword and held it up in silent salute.

He felt more than heard the entire army returning the gesture. He instinctively knew that every man and Elf had his blade drawn and held up to the centre of his face.

"_An Eru ar an Arda!"_ he yelled in Quenya. He realised that many in the army wouldn't understand and so repeated it in Sindarin as well, this time they yelled it back just as enthusiastically.

With that loud battle-cry, he led the charge upon the enemy, hacking like there was no tomorrow. He silently pushed back the thought that if they didn't win this then there really was no tomorrow.

A beautiful, auburn-haired figure crossed his mind, and he knew that there _had_ to be a tomorrow.

XXX

He took the small respite he'd been given to look around him. From what he could see, they were winning. It almost seemed like they now _outnumbered_ Morgoth's forces!

A surge of hope filled him and then something in the sky caught his attention and drew out the sudden good feeling, which was swiftly replaced with horror. Dragons. The b...

Morgoth had sent dragons against them.

"_Amlug! Amlug a Morgoth,"_ he yelled. The translation into Sindarin was not necessary; you only needed to look up to see what he was talking about.

As soon as his throat had loosened, he let out a yell of warning. For all the good that it would do, most on the field were aware of the airborne presence. As the leading dragon, a fearsome black-scaled beast, almost the personification of darkness, began to dive, a flash of light burst out in the sky from the opposite direction followed by several golden eagles.

Eönwë hadn't held high expectations when he had first seen Eärendil, but now he had to admit the boy had good timing, sailing across the sky in Vingilot and leading the eagles of Manwë. Caught out in the moment, he yelled another comment, this time triumphant rather that shocked or terrified.

"_Thoron an Manwë! Eärendil ar Thoron an Manwë tol!"_ Alright, he was stating the obvious, but in the middle of the biggest battle that Arda had ever seen, even a Maia was not graced with great eloquence. In battle eloquence only existed in poetry.

Suddenly, Eönwë and every other land-bound warrior was brought back to the task at hand and went back to slaughtering the enemy, this time with renewed vigour. Left unsaid, but thought by all was that if Manwë was sending his own eagles into the fray to protect them from Morgoth, then they_ had_ to win this battle...

XXX

Eönwë and many others wilted slightly as they realised that they _had_ won and the battle-lust began to wear off.

He panted for a minute or so, still shocked at having actually been successful. Once he had recovered slightly, he pulled off a gauntlet and hung it from his belt before reaching up to touch his shoulder joint, where Riona had placed her Favour. Against all odds, it was still there, tied neatly to his armour. He smiled and touched it again.

Now he had won this physical battle he had a more important, and probably more difficult one to come. Winning back Riona's trust and heart. That, however, was a battle he would approach with the greatest enthusiasm.

The prize was, after all, a beautiful maiden.

Translations.

[note, the phrases are in what is probably bad Quenya, I only had a Quenya dictionary to work with so the grammar is probably atrocious – not that my grasp of English grammar is any better. By the way, if your wondering about the use of Quenya, Eönwë is from valinor and therefore uses it a his first language thus, that is the one he defaults to]

_An Eru ar an Arda! :_ For Eru (the one, ultimate god of the Tolkien-verse) and for Earth (Arda/Middle Earth)

_Amlug! Amlug a Morgoth: _Dragons! Dragons of Morgoth.

_Thoron an Manwë! Eärendil ar Thoron an Manwë tol!: _The Eagles of Manwë! Eärendil and the Eagles of Manwë come!


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this has once again taken a while and that i haven't replied to review, despite effort on my part to make time to do so, life is getting ever more hectic as i try to mix christmas with essays deadlines etc. On a good note - the philosophy essay i was asking for help on i got 68% - thats 2% off a first (highest uni grade possible)! *Does pleased little dance*

Wrath's Recompense 8

Eönwë stood and watched as his Lord and the Valar generally took care of the task that was Morgoth once and for all.

Aulë bound the fallen Vala with the chain the Valar of crafting had made to bind him, Angainor, and then they went to work finding a prison that could permanently confine him as none yet had. Eventually, they thrust him through the doors of night, beyond the walls of the world and into the timeless void*, where he would remain until the ultimate last battle and the day of doom, when he would finally be destroyed.

Once Morgoth was dealt with, Eönwë went into the depth of the Angband and retrieved the two remaining Silmarils and took them away, where he would guard them to prevent any more from becoming corrupted by the stones, which held the last lights of the two trees of Valinor, Laurelin and Telperion.

XXX

Much later, Eönwë walked wearily into the empty camp. Much of it would stay deserted, though thankfully few more would die now. The end of a war brought such relief and such grief. As he finally made it to the area reserved for the generals, he saw one loan figure sitting by the campfire, one that she'd obviously been tending.

He could tell when Riona had heard them coming, for she rose from the log on which she sat and promptly surprised them. As she turned round she drew a long sword (where in Arda had she got a long sword?) and held the blade professionally. Her entire posture spoke of a person who knew what she was doing. As he walked closer to her, slowly since she was obviously scared and defensive, he observed he posture. Knees bent and feet turned outwards lowering her centre of gravity and giving her a more stable standing position that lowered the target area. Her sword arm was tight to her body, other arm safely out the way. The blade was held low but point high, in a position she could easily defending with limited movement of her own. There was not the slightest hint of shaking as she held the blade. In other words, the position of one well accustomed to using a light sword.

He wondered where she could have learnt that, but realised that there was no way that she'd picked up her skill from watching men train around the camp, at some point someone had taught her.

When he was about a blade's length away from the tip of her sword he stopped and raised his helmet. To her credit, she did not lower the blade. Only a fool lowered their blade when an armed soldier lifted their helmet. Next to him, Finarfin also removed helmet and brushed away the dirty, sweat streaked hair.

The only movement from Riona was the flicker of her eyes between the two of them before she finally relaxed and sheathed her sword, once again like a professional. Then she stepped forward, for the first time looking hesitant. Her eyes continued swinging between them and it seemed that she couldn't decide which one to go to first. Eönwë wasn't sure what his reaction would be if she chose Finarfin.

After a second or so more hesitation, she touched his cheek softly with the tips of her fingers and ran them down his face. Then without warning, Eönwë had arms full of a sobbing woman, who apparently didn't care that she was getting her dress dirty from all the gore on his armour. With a quick movement, he ripped off his gauntlets and held her close. Over Riona's shoulder, he saw Finarfin grinning at him before the King went off to remove his armour and clean up.

When Riona had finally finished hugging him senseless, she pulled him into the tent and helped him out of the armour and then silently tended his wounds like she had after that first battle he'd taken part in after she'd joined them. It was the first time since he'd pushed her away that she'd acted anything close to normal.

Once she'd finished with his many injuries, she just sat there staring at the ground, like she didn't know what to do next. Eönwë realised that it was his move, that right now he could lose her forever or be able to get her back. According to Finarfin, who knew a lot more about the emotions of females than he did, she still loved him and hoped he'd love her back, but was scared of being hurt again and so had been guarding herself from pain by avoiding him.

Very slowly, he lifted a hand up and as gently as he could in his exhausted state, he drew her face round so she looked up into his eyes; he saw a glimmer of hope in the bright green eyes. As hesitantly as she'd been earlier, he leant in to kiss her. She leant forward almost imperceptibly, but he felt it. She wanted him!

The kiss was short and sweet but oh! Suddenly he understood what the fuss was about. He drew the beautiful girl in front of him into his arms and held her there. Finarfin was right. He was a complete idiot; why hadn't he taken this when it was offered?

XXX

The next morning he woke with his arms full of Riona – and Daffyd. He wasn't exactly sure when the little boy had joined them, but all the same, Daffyd was curled up contentedly between them, one hand clinging to Riona's dress.

They hadn't actually done anything more than kiss, but neither had been inclined to sleep away from the other and so they had curled up on his bedroll to sleep. Apparently, Daffyd had missed his favourite cuddly toy. When he looked back down at them, he saw Riona awake and smiling. She kissed him gently and manoeuvred the small body into a better position and curled into the two males in her life. Eönwë's arms tightened round them. Instant family, just add love he thought; though, he was not entirely sure where the thought came from.

With another smile at the two beautiful people curled up to and relying on him he determined to – how had that human put it – live for today and think about tomorrow, tomorrow. The happy little sound from Riona sealed the resolve and he went back to sleep, enjoying the dual warmth next to him.

XXX

Sometime later, Eönwë was once again woken, this time by an extra presence which radiated amusement. That presence also radiated a sort of hostility.

Drowsy eyes opened and looked towards the presence to see Finarfin standing at the food of their bedroll, arms crossed and a chiding expression on his face. When the King saw that he was noticed by the Maia, he spoke in a deceptively quiet voice, which dripped warning venom.

"May I enquire as to exactly what you are doing with the Lady Riona in your arms and bed?" Eönwë was not going to be fazed by the Noldor and simply raised an eyebrow.

"Keeping her and Daffyd warm right now." He pulled the covers back slightly to reveal the third person there. He grinned slightly as he saw that even Finarfin couldn't help smiling at the incredibly cute image of the little boy curled up between them.

"How long has he been there?"

"All night." Well, nearly, but no need to tell Finarfin that. The King shook his head.

"As I said, don't hurt them or else Morgoth's punishment will look light in comparison compared with what I will wreak on you." Before Eönwë could answer, Finarfin left them there, curled up as one happy unit.

Note:

*Direct silmarillion quote. Yes Tolkien really did write that description.


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, sorry it took some time to post. The next (and final) one will be up some time next week (though not monday as i will still be coming back from Strasbourg that day).

Pardon the slight harry potter last line BTW, it was too good to pass up.

Anyway, Enjoy!

Wrath's Recompense 9

Eönwë woke and knew instantly that something was wrong. As he reached for his sword he sent his mind out to sense his surroundings and knew instantly what was different. He could no longer sense the Silmarils which he had been guarding.

He didn't know what was more worrying, that the two stones that were the centre of the unrest that had marked the entire Age had been stolen or that someone had got into his tent and been so close to him without his knowing.

When he'd got out of his tent, he saw that he wasn't the only one who had noticed something wrong. Finarfin was also in the fire clearing sword drawn, as was Riona. Slightly to his surprise, she still had Daffyd perched on her left hip, the sword in her right hand.

Absently, he realised that it was a remarkably good way of protecting the child, since the posture she used made him a minimal target (as long as the enemy was coming from the front) and it only hindered her weapons use minimally.

"Put the sword away, they're gone already and have what they want, for all the good it will do them." Finarfin sheathed his blade and taking the cue, so did Riona. She'd obviously worked out the gist of what he'd said. Both she and Finarfin moved to the banked fire and looked at him curiously. After a second, he explained.

"Maedros and Maglor have stolen the last two Silmarils. They should be regretting it any time now." The Noldor King's eyes went flat the moment the names of his half-brother's last surviving sons were mentioned and he didn't seem vastly amused by this latest development. Riona had, obviously, not understood a word and simply walked over to Eönwë and lent her head against his shoulder; taking the hint, he wrapped his arm round her waist. To the Maia's vast amusement he realised that Daffyd was utterly asleep and probably hadn't realised anything had happened.

"Shall I send men after them, my Lord?" Finarfin asked icily.

"No, their actions are already bringing them punishment, for the stones will not accept their ownership any more than they did Morgoth's. Leave them be, neither will trouble anyone anymore." Finarfin didn't seem too pleased with that order, but nodded sharply anyway.

XXX

Riona was once again curled against Eönwë with Daffyd perched on her hip and humming what sounded like a sea-shanty as they watched the makeshift jetties that Cirdan's folk had set up for all the Elves who wished to sail to Valinor. Most of Beleriand had been sunk in the aftermath of the War of Wrath and Cirdan had had to set up makeshift docks for the mass exodus of the majority of the elven race back to Valinor.

Nearby, Finarfin was also watching his people embark the ships, scowling in a most unelven-like way. Eönwë wasn't sure if the scowl was because of the news they had received of Maedros and Maglor or whether it was because when he had asked his daughter when she was going to sail, she had said that she wasn't.

Finarfin had not taken Artanis', or Galadriel as she was now known, refusing to return to the Undying Lands very well, though he had at least tried to hide it while she was around, especially after she had explained that her husband (an Elf of Doriath called Celeborn) was too closely bound to Arda to sail yet. Even Finarfin realised it was unfair to separate he from her husband because of what he wanted. It didn't stop him from muttering rude comments about Doriathin Elves once he was away from her hearing, though.

Riona had been present for that conversation and apparently it had needed little translation. While the Elf-king was present, she was commiseratory; when he wasn't, she evidently found his behaviour very funny. Eönwë had to admit there was something funny about the great King of the Noldor _sulking._

Soon their own ship was ready to leave and they boarded the large white vessel, which held many of the higher ranking Elves that had survived the War. Most of them were not entirely comfortable sailing, but apparently the two humans seemed totally at home on the high seas. When one of the Elves commented that she was obviously mad (caused by seeing her standing at the bow of the boat), Eönwë reminded him that she had told them she was an islander and had obviously become accustomed to ships, since her brother had lived on another island.

Most of the passengers still thought she was insane for her apparently ready enjoyment in sailing. Eönwë preferred to enjoy the pleasant view of her standing proud with the wind whipping her hair back dramatically. It was an almost painting worthy image, he thought, especially when Daffyd stood with her.

Eventually, the fair shore of Valinor was sighted and then suddenly, many Elves wanted to stand near the bow, watching the shoreline. Riona could obviously tell how important this place was to him and seemed to share in his joy. As usual, he didn't understand the song she was singing, but somehow it seemed to convey his feelings very well.

XXX

As soon as they arrived, he escorted Riona and Daffyd to Valmar and the Palace of Manwë and Varda. The Valar had obviously been expecting them, for they were all assembled in their joint throne room that they kept for when all fourteen had to deal with something together. Eönwë was vaguely surprised to see Ulmö present as well, for he rarely joined the discussions of the Valar. Either he considered Riona and Daffyd's presence particularly significant or he was just curious about the humans that his fellow Valar would call to the land they had agreed no Mortal should enter. Eönwë hoped it was the latter, but suspected it was the former.

When they were inside the semicircle of thrones and facing Manwë and Varda, Eönwë stopped and bowed deeply to the assembling in general. Following his lead, Riona curtseyed low and Daffyd made a rather cute attempt at a bow.

When he had risen, Eönwë looked around the faces of the Valar, suddenly slightly worried as possibilities he had carefully not been thinking about crossed his mind. Mandos and Ulmö looked as stoic as ever, neither stern face giving anything away, whilst Irmo, Estë, Vairë, and a few other of the Valar looked amused. He suddenly blushed as he realised that he had been holding Riona's waist right up until the point they had bowed and that the amused-looking Valar must know of the relationship there.

Eönwë stiffened his posture and introduced Riona and Daffyd as formally as he could, trying to gather the scraps of his dignity, as well as ignore the fact that about half the Valar seemed to be laughing at him. The noticeable tightness in his jaw seemed to provide even more amusement and even Manwë's voice was highly amused as he dismissed Eönwë.

XXX

His housekeeper had been delighted at the safe return of her Lord, as had the entire staff of his household, and all fussed him immensely when he returned. The tall Maia had tried to be as civil and as happy as they were, but he had spent the entire journey from Manwë's hall going through 'what if's' in his head, working himself up with worry as it occurred to him that he might never see Riona again.

Fairly quickly, his staff had realised that there was something worrying their Lord, who, instead of going and freshening up or anything like that, had gone to the library to pace. After about half-an-hour of pacing back and forth, his housekeeper had given up on him.

What if they returned them to their home? Would he be given chance to say goodbye or would he just be informed they were gone. Did Riona even want to stay here, what if she wanted to leave him? Thoughts like that ran through his brain and he virtually wore a hole in the carpet.

Suddenly, he heard the library door open and his head snapped up. When he saw his housekeeper enter, his jaw tightened. Was she going to try and make him relax again? He was about to snap at her, when someone else followed her in.

Riona stood there smiling at him.

He didn't even notice Daffyd as her smile widened into a grin and she opened her mouth to speak.

"You know, I have to absolutely love the Valar's method of teaching languages," she said, before she was simply swept into Eönwë's arms.

"You're staying?" he asked desperately, having spent every moment since he'd last seen her worrying about that.

"With you? Always." Neither of them noticed his housekeeper grin at them and take Daffyd out because they were far too busy kissing.


	10. Chapter 10

In celebration of finishing my last essay of the term (well, with the exception of a meeting to write the intro/conclusion of aforementioned group essay) i shall post the last chapter of wraths recompense.

Before people ask, yes there is a sequel which i am writing. I'm presently on chapter nine - only just worked out how i'm eventually going to end it over the last weekend (weekend visits to oh so beautiful Strasbourg do wonders for imagination) but there is a huge amount of plotline to get through before i even sight the eventual ending but at least i now have a point to aim at now...

On that subject can anyone think of a title for the story? It primarily based around the children and does return to middle earth. There will be lots of complicatedness and stuff in it not to mention various people trying to manipulate other people (the side of me that chose to do a politics degree comes into its own in this story). The winner gets a virtual cookie!

Anway, here is the last fairly gooey chapter for all you raving romantics out there. Hopefully Melody-chii enjoyed here little story.

Wrath's Recompense 10

Their wedding was the biggest event Valinor had seen in a long time, and anyone who was anyone was there to see it happen.

Many thought that the event was the perfect ending to the War, the ultimate commander of the army marrying a beautiful lady, who he had saved from captivity under the enemy. It did sound terribly romantic when put like that.

Now she could speak and be understood, Riona turned out to be quite talkative and vastly pleased several Elves with her home traditions that she wanted to include in the wedding ceremony. The most pleased Elf however was Finarfin because, when she told him that where she came from the father rather than the mother that escorted a bride on the wedding day, she asked Finarfin to fill in for her father.

The Noldorin King had become quite attached to her and was very touched that she had asked him to fulfil the role of her father at such an important ceremony. Privately, Eönwë thought it was a very appropriate choice since Finarfin behaved very paternally towards Riona.

The other major tradition that she brought across was for Daffyd to carry the rings at the ceremony, a role which the little boy pulled off adorably, earning him much fuss from all the ellyth present.

At the feast they were presented with gifts, most notably by the Valar themselves. When Irmo came up to give his, he grinned slightly at Eönwë.

"It is nice to see my vision did indeed come true." At first Eönwë was confused by the comment then slowly he remembered the strange visit just before he had left for the War. Irmo apparently found the widening eyes as realisation hit amusing, judging by his expression as he walked off.

Toward the end of the feast, the entire room filled with a presence that was unmistakably Eru. Unconsciously, everyone in the room rose from where they sat and sunk into bows or curtseys at the presence of the One.

Eru moved over to Eönwë and Riona and placed hands on their heads in a benediction.

"I join in the joy of your wedding day and wish you the greatest happiness in your marriage. For your wedding gift I give you something none other can give to you." The voice that was more in the mind than heard for it was too pure to simply be noise was soft and all encasing. At the last words, there was a surge of power.

When the power overwhelming Eönwë's senses died down, Eru was gone. He turned to face his new wife and gasped in surprise. He looked then at Daffyd as well, then back to his wife before whispering to her in pure, undiluted but utterly overjoyed shock.

"Eru has made you both Maia!"

There was no better gift he could have given.

XXX

As Eönwë entered the house with Daffyd, who he had been teaching, he noticed how utterly radiant his wife was today, sitting talking to Finarfin and Fingolfin (who had recently been released from the halls of Mandos) and looking as if the sun rose in her face.

He jumped slightly as he felt a finger in his side and turned to the now adolescent Daffyd.

"You were staring again, Uncle Eönwë." He seemed very amused by that. Eönwë grinned at him.

"It's not my fault your aunt is the most beautiful lady ever born." Daffyd raised an amused eyebrow. The elder Maia just pulled a haughty expression and turned back to his wife and deliberately began staring at Riona again.

"You know, even though you two have been married hundreds years, you two still act like newlyweds?" Eönwë's laugh was what caught the attention of his wife and when she turned to look at her smile outshone any sunrise in her husband's eyes.

"You two are finished, then?" Both Maia nodded. "Good, I need to talk to Eönwë for a moment. Coming, my love?" As ever, when she called him her love, Eönwë's heart swelled with joy. Daffyd was probably right. He was a little besotted.

When they were in the library, she wrapped her arms round his neck and kissed him passionately.

"I thought you wanted to talk to me? If you keep doing that, talking _won't_ be on the agenda," he whispered huskily. Riona laughed, a sound like bells to her – alright, _totally_ besotted – husband. She took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach. In utter confusion, Eönwë frowned at her. Riona looked down and blushed a bit at him before looking back up at him through her lashes. Apparently, she wanted to test his self-control. Eventually, she actually spoke up,

"Eönwë, I'm pregnant." His jaw dropped. Alright, they had been trying for a child since Daffyd had been old enough not to need all their care, but, somehow, for it to actually happen was still a surprise.

Riona bit her lip nervously, still looking through her lashes. Eönwë suddenly grasped that she was worried about his reaction to the news. How could she think he'd be anything other than delighted? Without another thought he swept her back to him and kissed her as passionately as he could manage.

It was quite a while before they got back to their guests – and very little of that time had been taken up with talking. Daffyd seemed to find that very funny for some reason.

XXX

Finarfin and Daffyd were both glaring holes into the pacing Maia. Every time they pulled him back into a chair, he remained seated for about five minutes before getting up and pacing the library again. After several hours of waiting (and pacing), the carpet definitely needed replacing and both King and nephew were ready to kill the Herald of Manwë.

"Calm down! Pacing here is hardly going to make it come any quicker, Eönwë; I should know, I've experienced this five times!" Eönwë glared at the King.

"And Eru only knows how you did not go insane after five children either!" he snapped back, totally on edge.

When the library door opened, Eönwë was so highly strung that he nearly hit the ceiling with his jump of shock. He would never live that down with either male in the room. To the relief of all three, it was the housekeeper telling Eönwë to come with her.

When he entered the bedroom, his wife was sitting up in bed, utterly exhausted. The candid part of him admitted that, really, she looked terrible, but in his eyes she couldn't have looked more radiant than right then.

He moved over to the bed, where his legs gave out, and he perched beside his wife, who carefully handed an impossibly small bundle to him.

"Your daughter, Órenya." Eönwë smiled at her with total adoration before looking at the child.

"Well met, Russafëa." He kissed his daughter's shock of auburn hair gently. Riona grinned at him.

"Red-haired spirit? I congratulate your imagination, Melmë." Only Riona would make a joke like that at that particular moment.

THE END


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